


Fireflies and Chocolate Ice-Cream

by Imionn (The_River_Blaire)



Series: Firefly Stories [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kidlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_River_Blaire/pseuds/Imionn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“ICE-CREAM!!!!” The little boy shrieked before pelting to the house, completely forgetting his beloved little fireflies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies and Chocolate Ice-Cream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraDefae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraDefae/gifts).



> To Aurora Defae.  
> You said you were having Writers Block, so I wrote this to, hopefully, inspire you, for all the times your work has inspired me.

The little boy ran around the yard, diving after the little bugs flickering in the evening light. Reaching out he grabbed the little thing. “Haha!” He laughed looking at the little bug cupped in his hands through a little hole he made between his thumbs. He smiled as it blinked, faintly, in his hands.

“Let it go.” He hears from a voice behind him.

The boy turned to see a boy, well teenager, looking about fourteen, standing behind him.

“But Mycroft.” The little boy frowned.

“Sherlock. Let it go.” The older boy, Mycroft, said in a firm voice.

Sherlock opened his hands and the little bug flew away. Sherlock watched sadly as his little friend went away.

“It is a bug Sherlock, just a bug. Do not make the mistake of sentimentality over a bug.”

Sherlock pouted, looking up at his big brother.

“Now come inside.” Mycroft directed.

“No.” Sherlock responded stubbornly, sitting down on the ground.

“Sherlock.” The older boy said sternly to the little stubborn boy.

“No. I want to catch more fireflies.” The little boy pouted.

“Fine.” Mycroft rolled his eyes as his little seven year old brother bounded off after the little bugs.

Sherlock smiled as he reached for the little things that glowed around him. The little bugs flew back and forth blinking their messages to one another. Sherlock found one that he was keen on catching. He chased it as it blinked, Sherlock would stop for a moment when it stopped blinking but quickly ran after it when it blinked again. He reached out diving for it, but he over jumped and skidded across the grass. He sat up giggling, looking at his now grass stained knees. He stood up and tracked down the firefly before diving after it again. He caught it and smiled up at his big brother.

Mycroft wouldn’t have admitted it if you asked, but he secretly enjoyed watching the younger Holmes leaping after the lightning bugs, and seeing the pride on his face when he successfully caught one.

“Mycroft. Sherlock. Time to come in!” A kind sounding voice came from the side door.

“But Mummy.” Sherlock complained. “Can’t I have five more minutes?”

“Only if you want your ice-cream to melt.” The voice called back.

“ICE-CREAM!!!!” The little boy shrieked before pelting to the house, completely forgetting his beloved little fireflies.

Mycroft laughed as he followed his younger brother to the side door.

“Sherlock.” Their mother exclaimed looking at his knees. “What have you done?”

“I was catching fireflies.” The little boy explained.

“Yes, evidently.” His mother sighed handing the little boy a chocolate ice-cream cone.

The little boy licked it, getting chocolate all over his face.

“Mycroft, watch Sherlock. I’ve got to go out.” Their mother said, grabbing her keys and walking past the two boys. “Thanks.”

Mycroft looked at his brother as Sherlock bounced into the living room. “STORY, STORY” he cried from the couch, ice-cream in hand.

Mycroft sighed and grabbed the novel they were reading together, The Story of King Arthur. He sat down on the couch beside Sherlock, but Sherlock climbed into his lap and stared up at his big brother. Mycroft couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his grey eyed, chocolate covered little brother.

Mycroft opened up the book and began reading.

“He dressed himself in the most dapper clothing, his coat with its crest showing the finest craft sewn over velvet, with stones of great virtue bound and embroidered...” Mycroft started from where they had left off last. Sherlock listened intently, licking his ice-cream.

Soon Sherlock finished his ice-cream, so he nestled into Mycroft’s side.

“Gringolet, great and huge-” Mycroft paused as his little brother got comfortable. “Gringolet, the great and huge,was standing all geared up after his long stabling in a safe suitable way...” he continued.  
After a while of reading Sherlock drifted into sleep, dreaming of valiant knights and glorious battles. Mycroft looked down at the sleeping figure of his younger brother. Sherlock was staining Mycroft’s shirt with chocolate ice-cream, but he didn’t mind particularly much, he just smiled down at the chocolate ice-cream loving, firefly catching little seven year old boy he was proud to call his brother.


End file.
